


in milwaukee, off your feet

by starrypinks (ginnydear)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Lake Michigan, M/M, Misunderstandings, No Smut, Panic Attacks, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Teacher Harry, Writer Louis, they’re mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-13 02:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19242463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnydear/pseuds/starrypinks
Summary: Louis has two weeks in a lake side cabin to find some form of inspiration. It shows up wearing a big floppy hat and jean shorts.





	in milwaukee, off your feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dandelionfairies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionfairies/gifts).



> hi!! i loved all three of your prompts but i loved the added humor of your first prompt of author louis, so here we are!! 
> 
> just as a warning, there’s one scene where Louis talks to Jay on the phone, and there’s mention of panic attacks. i have them tagged but i want to reiterate, just in case. 
> 
> title is from Holocene by Bon Iver.

It’s July 15th when Louis drives across the Illinois border into Wisconsin.

The whole thing had been Zayn’s idea, late one night the week before, as Louis laid out on Zayn’s couch and showed him email after email from his publisher about his August 31st deadline. He’s meant to be working on his second draft, and they aren’t very happy with him after his rough draft was… rough.

“You just need a change of scenery,” Zayn had said, brushing chip dust off his shirt as he sat up. He’d tilted his head and stared at Louis for a long moment before pulling out his phone and tapping away. Within ten minutes, he’d booked a lakeside cabin. When Louis had tried to protest, Zayn had showed him the confirmation email that cited their cancellation policy.

So that’s how Louis ends up packing for two weeks and lugging everything into Zayn’s beat up Toyota to drive the two hours from Chicago to a dot on the map somewhere outside Milwaukee.

(“How is _Milwaukee_ a change of scenery?”

“More cheese. Beer. Something. You’re going.”)

\---

Standing in the kitchen of the cabin, Louis pulls out his phone and calls Zayn. He answers on the second ring.

“Do you feel inspired yet?” Zayn asks, and Louis can hear him smiling.

“No,” Louis lies, turning on his heel and walking towards the large sliding glass door that separates the living room from the back deck. Past the end of the deck and beyond some rocks is Lake Michigan as far as the eye can see.

“It’s pretty, huh? I picked that one because it has that porch, I knew you’d love it.”

“I do not.”

Zayn laughs at him, and then there’s the beeping of the call ending. Before Louis can begin to process what’s happening, Zayn FaceTime’s him.

“I wanted to see your face,” Zayn says, laughing still.

“I’ll hang up on you,” Louis warns, but they both know he’s bluffing. Louis can’t stop smiling and looking around. “It’s… quiet.”

“It’s some small town in Wisconsin; of course it’s quiet.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard quiet in years,” Louis jokes, but they both know there’s some truth to his statement. They both remember the little apartment they shared right next to the Red Line before they started making money after college.

“I looked it up and there’s a couple of really good eateries nearby, plus Milwaukee isn’t that far away. So, if the quiet does become too much, you can go sit at a coffee shop or something.”

Louis wanders through the cabin as Zayn talks, doing a quick check of what’s already been stocked for him. There’re extra towels on a rack in the bathroom, sheets in the bedroom closet, and a washer and dryer. The kitchen is mostly bare besides a bag of sugar, a box of green tea, and a prefilled water pitcher.

“It’s great, Zayn. I think… I think this is what I needed.”

Zayn hums, his mouth stretched in a large smile. Louis rolls his eyes and points the camera at the ceiling as he continues his walk.

“The owner said she left contact information and some local recommendations in a binder in the living room. Apparently, she owns a couple cabins up there and has a handyman in case you need something.”

“All I’m going to need is some food and the air conditioning, Zaynie, and I’ll be just fine,” Louis says with a smile, putting the phone camera back on his face. Zayn rolls his eyes.

“And the Wi-Fi password.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Zayn.”

“Go over your data, probably.”

Louis hangs up on him.

\---

Louis spends his first day in Wisconsin in the small town he’s staying in. There’s an actual Main Street, lined with quaint little shops and eateries. Louis spends two hours in the used bookstore that’s tucked between a coffee shop and a cheese shop. He ends up buying two well-worn books from the small LGBTQ section, sending Zayn a picture of the covers and a promise that Zayn can read them when Louis returns.

After putting it off as long as possible, Louis heads to the only grocery shop in town. He had done a double take when he’d seen the name on his phone of the store. The Piggly Wiggly sounds fake, something he’d heard in an episode of _That 70’s Show_ years ago.

It’s quiet inside, as Louis thought it would be on a Monday afternoon. He has a small list on his phone, essentials he can make easily in a town where the takeout options are limited. He tries his best to not buy any frozen meals, although he does get a couple frozen pizzas and some ice cream. Knowing it’s going to be a hot two weeks makes ice cream an essential food group.

He’s standing in front of a wall of beer when someone walks up next to him. He doesn’t turn to look right away, too busy examining a beer box with a cat riding a unicorn. He jumps slightly when the person next to him moves, leaning in and grabbing a box of Spotted Cow. Louis follows the arms up to a face, and he frowns when he finds the person already smiling at him.

“Need help there?” the man asks, holding the box on his hip. He uses his other hand to adjust the sunglasses on his head.

“Wisconsin really loves beer,” Louis says slowly, making the man laugh. It’s a loud cackle, out of place in the stillness of the store.

“Not from here then?”

“Chicago,” Louis says on instinct, smiling a little when the man’s nose wrinkles. His eyes lose a bit of their mirth before he smiles again.

“Chicago has some decent brews. I’m quite fond of that Malört stuff y’all got, if I’m honest. Drunkest I’ve ever been was the first night I tried that stuff. Gave me one hell of a hangover.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Louis says, chuckling as the man pulls a face.

“That’s for sure. My buddy couldn’t drink it, though he barely likes beer to begin with so what does he know?”

“Malört is more of a liquor, though,” Louis says easily, leaning against his cart. The man adjusts the box in his arms, nodding.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s worse than whatever’s in here.” He taps the side of the box, nodding his head. “Though nothing’s as good as Spotted Cow. Maybe the Belgian Red, but you know.”

“I don’t,” Louis says, and the man laughs.

“Right, well, if you want a Wisconsin beer, take the Spotted Cow, you can never go wrong. Easy to drink and tastes delicious. If you want something fruiter while also being a beer, try the Belgian Red. They drain it over cherries. Otherwise that cat and unicorn one is actually better than you’d think.”

Louis nods, looking at the wall of beer again. He spots the Belgian Red the man’s talking about and grabs a large bottle of that, as well as a six pack of the Spotted Cow.

“When in Rome,” he says, making the man laugh again.

“Well, cheers then! Enjoy,” the man says, jerking his head once so his sunglasses fall down over his eyes. Louis nods, waving awkwardly.

“Thanks,” he says as the man disappears around the corner.

When Louis is in the car, he replays the interaction in his mind. He grabs his leather-bound notebook off the passenger seat and opens it to a new page, hand searching in the door for a pen. When he finally finds one, he places the notebook on the steering wheel and twirls the pen between his fingers as he thinks.

_Blue is not but the color of the sky but of joy, unbridled happiness at life in a stranger’s eyes._

“Good enough,” Louis mumbles to himself, sticking the pen in the notebook and throwing it on the passenger seat.

\---

Louis is sitting out on the back porch, laptop open on the table and drafts spread about, when the noise starts.

He’d figured out how to connect his phone to the house’s speakers the night before, and he’s had his favorite writing playlist on all morning. It’s a mixture of mellow acoustic guitar and jazz. No lyrics, just noise. It’s the only noise he’s heard all morning when a loud _thunk_ reaches his ears.

He looks up and around, past the netting around the porch and towards the water. There’s no one in his line of vision, but there’s the unmistakable sound of someone huffing and dragging something along the ground echoing into his space.

Standing up slowly, Louis grabs his phone and walks over to the edge of the porch, looking towards the house next to his. There’s enough space for two cars to fit side by side in between the houses, a little alleyway that Louis hasn’t bothered to explore. Except that’s where the noise is coming from.

It gets quiet again, a door closing with a _thud_. Louis stands still at the edge of the porch, hand on the door handle. He starts to lean back, thinking that whoever is out there is done, when there’s an even louder groan that the ones before.

Opening the door and peeking his head out, Louis has just enough time to take in the sight of the man he saw in the Piggly Wiggly standing over two large inflatable rafts and an air pump before he turns the pump on. The idyllic quiet of the afternoon shatters as it makes the loudest noise Louis has heard in his entire life before starting to work properly. The man jumps at the noise and holds his hands out over the pump as the noise evens out to a very loud (but normal) hum.

“Niall, what the fuck?” someone from inside yells, and Louis scrambles back inside the deck as the man, Niall, stands up and turns towards the other house.

“This thing’s as old as you! What did you expect!” Niall yells as Louis sits down at the table again, palms of his hands pushed to hard into his eyes he sees stars.

Shutting his laptop and gathering up all his papers, he decides writing is over. It’s naptime.

\---

“Oh, blimey.”

Louis’ eyes fly open, hand already reaching for his phone. The voice is the one from earlier, definitely that Niall person, and he flings the sheets off as he sits up and heads for the bedroom window. It faces the house next door, and as he pushes back the curtains, he sends a silent thank you to the house owner for the floodlight that’s attached to the deck.

Niall is stumbling down the alleyway, phone pressed to his face as he attempts to walk without the aid of the house. There’s a tall man behind him who’s faring much worse, feet barely moving as they both attempt to get to the back door. Louis’ eyebrows furrow as the tall man stumbles, reaching out and grabbing onto Niall.

“Oh, for fucks sake, H. You – you can barely walk on a good day.”

“Sh – shut up, Neil.”

Louis covers his mouth as Niall wraps an arm around H’s waist, trying to haul him up into a standing position. It doesn’t really work, and they both go tumbling to the ground.

“Oh, no!”

“My shirt!” H says loudly, already scrambling to sit up. Niall starts laughing as H paws at his shirt, and it’s then that Louis takes in that it’s bright pink with white polka dots.

“I’ll get whatever stains you get out, honey,” Niall says, almost sarcastically sweet, and H swats at him.

“Fuck off,” H says as he manages to stand and make his way to the back door. As H struggles with the keys, Niall stands and shuffles over to stand next to him. He hangs off his back, face hidden in H’s neck, as H finally gets the door open.

“Get inside,” H says, sliding Niall off him and into the doorway. Niall, fading comically fast, slides down the door and onto the floor. Louis laughs out loud, ducking down in case the noise escapes the window. When he looks out again, H is closing the door.

Watching for a moment longer, Louis unlocks his phone and pulls up his message thread with Zayn.

_my neighbors are fucking noisy._

As he expected, Zayn replies but a minute later as Louis is getting back into bed.

_what? you have neighbors? tell them off_

Louis rolls his eyes and places his phone back on the nightstand, going back to sleep.

\---

On Wednesday, Louis washes and chops up a bunch of the greens he bought, mixing them all together in one of the large bowls he finds in the cabinets. He prepares the other veggies and mixes himself a quick vinaigrette that he knows his mom would be proud of and heads for the back deck again. He has his water bottle under his arm and his laptop is already sitting on the table, open and charging after his marathon writing session earlier. He’d gotten up bright and early, hoping that Niall and H would sleep in and let him have a quiet morning. So far, he hasn’t heard a peep out of the house next door.

He sits back down at the table and gets comfortable in the chair, drawing his knees up toward his chest and planting his heels on the cushion. It’s hot and humid no matter what time Louis comes out to the deck, but the oscillating fan helps move the air around him and create a tolerable environment.

As he eats, he looks out towards the lake. It’s the same lake he’s been staring at most of his life, the same water he peed in when he was seven and puked in when he was nineteen. He’s lived in Chicago proper for most of his adult life, having chosen to stay to attend college instead of leaving. Zayn had been the only friend that had stayed with him.

_might go swimming today, see if that helps the creative process_

Zayn’s probably still asleep, but he’ll be happy for the update. Louis never did text him back the night before.

Finishing the salad, Louis sets the bowl on the table and takes a long drink from his water bottle. The outside is covered in condensation, slippery in his hands, and he stares at the water droplets for a long moment, his mind shifting to the outlines and drafts on the table. He’s been stuck, since the beginning, on managing the plot twist of the book. His first outline had seemed to set it up nicely, and so had his very first, very rough draft. But now, as he started to go back in and fill in the gaps, flesh everything out, he felt it wasn’t going to work the same way.

“This is what I get for coming up with a this plot,” Louis mumbles to himself, plopping his feet back onto the floor and leaning over the table. He pulls his laptop into his lap and settles in for reading over what he’d done earlier.

He’s in the middle of fixing an entire paragraph where he managed to change tenses when a door slams next door.

“I’m not drinking again, Niall. Especially not in the sun and heat. That’s a surefire way to get heatstroke and die.”

“Listen, Harold. Just a couple brewskis. You know what, we can make it wine coolers.”

H, or Harold, scoffs loudly. Louis freezes in his chair as the man from the night before, now wearing nothing but a baseball cap, sunglasses, and tiny bright green swim shorts, walks past the deck and towards the lake. Niall follows him, wearing an open Hawaiian shirt and board shorts.

They continue to argue as they disappear behind some of the brush, and Louis sticks his nose back in his laptop. He remains quiet as they come back up the beach, lugging the inflatable rafts from the day before. Well, Harold is. Niall’s walking backwards in front of him and still pleading his case.

“I have yardwork to do, and don’t you have that thing?” Harold asks, voice dipping slightly. They’re so wrapped up in their own little world that they don’t notice Louis watching them. They disappear around the corner, the rafts making a soft noise as they drop to the gravel.

“I do, but a few beers will loosen me up! You know I get a lil’ nervous.”

“I don’t think you know the meaning of the word,” Harold argues, and Louis snorts softly. The banging of their side door drowns out the rest of their conversation and Louis sighs happily as he’s blessed with quiet once more.

\---

It’s later that evening, as the sun finally starts to disappear, that Louis begins to feel like he has some grasp on what he’s meant to be doing.

Not necessarily with the numerous rough drafts and outlines on the table, or the documents open on his laptop. As he starts to feel his mental stability slipping, the sound of a guitar comes from around the side of the house.

He sits back in his chair and takes a deep breath, slowly recognizing that he probably needs to call Zayn and have some form of human contact while staying here. It’s not terrible but it’s not the best either for him to isolate himself entirely. He’s also not entirely out of the habit of checking his phone twenty times a day, waiting on a text from someone important, someone who was meant to mean something.

“Shit.”

The voice startles Louis out of his thoughts and he turns to the right, looking out at the backyard of his neighbors. He can see the top of a hat over the fence, tilted down slightly. It must be Harold, sitting in one of the lawn chairs Louis spotted the other day. The guitar strings make a random noise before the gentle plucking begins again.

It’s not the best; it’s not even that good, but it’s something. It’s slow and easy, obviously the picking of notes he’s been working on. The sound of someone starting fresh, learning from the ground up. He nails three notes back to back, a chord progression, and Louis can hear an excited _“yes”_ float over from the yard. Progress.

Closing his laptop, Louis gathers up his things and heads back inside. He places everything on the coffee table in the living room and organizes it so it’s neat and tidy. Drafts stacked in order, outlines on top. Laptop plugged in and right next to everything else. He stares down at everything, in its perfect little piles, and makes up his mind.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll get out of the house. He’ll go down on the lake. Back to the basics.

\---

Louis spends the entire day on the lake.

He finds some swimming supplies in the shed off the deck and nearly passes out blowing up an inflatable ring. He’s down in the water before his neighbors are even awake, and he’s floating far away when they venture into the water, their rafts tied together with what looks like a cooler in the middle. Louis thinks that’s hardly okay but puts his sunglasses back on and keeps floating anyway.

He swims back to shore when he starts to feel thirsty, and he sits in a beach chair with the attached umbrella for another few hours, reading one of the books he bought in town. He drinks his entire water bottle and chews on a protein bar until the sunburn on his back starts to smart and stick to the plastic of the chair.

He’s folding the chair up when his phone starts to ring, and he jumps at the tone. When he manages to get a peek at the screen, he winces when he sees his mom’s contact info there.

“Hey, Mom,” he says, sticking the phone between his shoulder and ear. He gives up on carrying the chair and settles for dragging it up the beach.

“Hi, honey. I haven’t heard from you in a while so I decided I needed to check in. See how my baby is doing.”

“Mom, I’m 27.”

“Uh-huh, and you’ll be my baby when you’re 72. We’ve been over this. Now, how are you? What’s going on? How have you been?”

Louis sighs as he reaches the shed, fumbling with the latch. He grunts to let his mom know he’s heard her as he manages to get the chair into the shed without swearing.

“I’m sunburned and dehydrated, at the moment. I’m going to bathe in aloe,” he replies, earning a small chuckle.

“Never did get the hang of sunscreen, did you?”

“It’s the pesky caps, they’re confusing,” he says, smiling at his own joke. The sound of his mother’s laughter is making him feel a bit homesick, so he latches the shed again and walks around to the deck door.

“Zayn tells me you’re in Wisconsin, trying to find inspiration.”

“Inspiration is trying to find me, and don’t listen to Zayn. He’s not my keeper.”

“Ha!” she laughs, and Louis holds the phone away from his ear at the loud noise. He pulls the house keys out of his pocket and sticks the key into the lock. As he opens the door, he hears his neighbor’s door open. He looks down the alleyway to see Harold stepping out of the house, a garbage bag in his hand. Ruefully, Louis wonders if he’s finally killed Niall.

“I’m glad you think you’re funny, mom,” Louis says, and Harolds head turns towards him. His eyes widen, much wider than Louis thought eyes could go, and his mouth opens in a slight ‘oh’. Louis waves his hand as he pushes the deck door open, disappearing inside before he can see Harold’s reaction.

“I’m hilarious. I’m also the kind of person who would tell their mom if I’d broken up with my boyfriend and needed to go on a vacation to get over it.”

“Is _that_ what Zayn told you? I’m going –”

“No, don’t kill Zayn.”

“I’m not going to kill him, maybe just yell. He didn’t need to tell you all that,” Louis says, sitting down in a deck chair. He sighs heavily when he hears his mom tut, and he can see her shaking her head.

“Maybe he did, because you certainly didn’t. The ending of a quick fling, I get not telling me. But honey, you guys were dating for a long time.”

“I know, mom,” Louis grounds out, hands coming up to push on his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just… I was a little hurt at having to hear this from Zayn, almost a month later.”

There’s a silence that hangs over them for a moment, and Louis watches it fill with the words he’s been trying to tell his mom for months, the reasons he’s tried to grapple with himself. There’s no amount of closure in the world he could’ve gotten from his ex that would help how he feels at this very moment, listening to his mom breathe on the other end of the line.

“It’s… been hard,” he manages to say, swallowing thickly. “I haven’t really figured out how to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry baby,” she starts again, but Louis cuts her off.

“No, it’s okay, Mom. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t break up with me over text and then move all of your stuff out of my apartment.”

“Boo –”

“You also didn’t give me some half-ass explanation about the ‘pressures’ and ‘hardships’ of dating someone like me, and how it was getting to be too much. No, that was him, not you.”

He breathes out sharply when he finishes, hating that his eyes are a little misty. There’s a lot of shifting on the other end of the line and then it gets quieter.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” she says softly, and something about the tone of her voice, the motherly love held in it, makes Louis’ chest hurt. He sinks down in the chair and pulls his towel up to his chin, covering the bottom half of his face. “You could’ve come home.”

“I know,” Louis says softly, blinking hard against unshed tears he’s been ignoring for weeks now. “I know, but I’m a big ball of stress and anxiety with my upcoming deadline and I wouldn’t want to add that to an already hectic household.”

“Nonsense, my household is calm and relaxing,” she deadpans, making Louis laugh despite himself. “Honestly, this morning I had to get the baby twins up to head to day camp while also getting the teenage twins to their volunteer jobs and neither of the oldest siblings could drive because ‘waking up early during summer vacation is a crime,’ but mind you, it went fabulously.”

“You’re lucky if Lottie wakes before noon during the summer,” Louis says, laughing gently, and he hears his mom snort.

“Charlotte has a job this summer, so she has to be up quite early some mornings.”

“Justice, yeah?” Louis asks, and he smiles as his mom laughs again.

“Don’t distract me.” She clears her throat, and when she speaks again, her voice is softer. “Is Wisconsin helping, then?”

“I don’t know. I won’t know until I submit this draft. If I ever do,” Louis says as he gets up from the chair he’d sunk into, the humidity of the deck starting to make his skin damp. As soon as he enters the house the sweat on his skin cools and he shivers.

“You will. I know you will. You’re free of distractions up there. I hear the local beer is tasty, as are the cheese curds.”

“I haven’t yet ventured out to find cheese curds. I’m sure once I do, I’ll just never leave the state.”

“Don’t even joke about things like that,” she says, but she sounds like she’s smiling. Louis smiles too, heading towards the fridge. He grabs the after-sun aloe gel he bought and heads towards the bathroom.

“I promise, I’m coming home. Now, I need to go bathe in aloe,” he starts, cutting off when she starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be. Call me one of these days though, the kids would love to see you.”

“I will, Mom,” he promises, placing the aloe on the vanity and looking at himself in the mirror. He winces at his reflection.

“Okay, boo. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The phone beeps as she hangs up and Louis lets out a sigh, puffing up his cheeks as he stares at the sink basin. Picking up the aloe bottle and rolling it between his hands, he takes another deep breath. Telling his mom had been one of the things he’d been dreading, putting off every time Zayn brought it up. He’d introduced his ex to his family, had brought him over for family celebrations.

Looking up at himself, Louis shakes his head. As he pops the cap on the bottle, he resolves to call Zayn later and yell at him. Only a little though.

 

\---

Louis wakes up with a start on the couch a few hours later, drool wet on his face. He sits up quickly as he takes in the noise of what he can only assume is the fucking air pump and groans loudly. The sunburn on his back is much hotter than it was earlier, and it’s probably one hell of a color now. It stings as he stands and heads towards the backdoor and the deck, following the absolute racket now coming from the alley.

He bursts through the door and winces as he realizes he’s not wearing shoes. His face slackens as he takes in the sight of Niall, struggling with the rafts, as Harold leans up against the house and watches with a smirk on his face. The air pumps makes another screeching noise and Louis’ shoulders reach his ears.

“Do you mind?” he yells down the alley, already walking to where they are. Niall jumps at the sound of Louis’ voice, losing his hold on the raft. It pushes away from the pump and starts to deflate rapidly. Louis doesn’t pay it any mind, instead fixing his best glare on Niall and Harold, who’s pushed himself off the wall and staring at Louis open-mouthed.

“What?” Niall yells over the noise of the pump, and that’s when Harold seems to understand what’s going on and reaches down to swat the pump out of Niall’s hands, smacking it a few times until he’s able to shut it off. “What?”

“I said, do you fucking mind? I don’t think the governor’s heard the racket you’re making! Do either of you own a watch? It’s dark out which means it’s definitely too late to be making this much fucking noise,” Louis snaps, wrapping an arm around his stomach as he realizes he’s still shirtless.

“I’m sorry -”

“You’re the guy from the store!”

Niall’s face brightens up as he stands, pointing at Louis. He elbows Harold, who’s glaring at him in annoyance at the interruption, and Louis blinks at him.

“I am. There isn’t enough beer in Wisconsin to put up with the amount of noise you two have been making all week, though.”

“Oh, man, Harry! Why didn’t you say someone was staying in the house?”

“I did! I told you repeatedly that I’m not here on some full time vacation, that I have to be available if someone calls and to water the plants! _You_ haven’t listened, Niall,” Harry says exasperatedly, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. Louis narrows his eyes.

“To be fair, neither of you have been that quiet,” Louis says quietly, but Harry and Niall hear him. Harry winces and Niall smiles smugly until he sees that Harry’s wincing.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Harry says, stepping forward slightly and offering a hand. “I’m Harry, I’m Anne’s son and the ‘handyman’ listed on her little binder. I, truly, am so sorry for interrupting your vacation with our noise. If there’s anything we can do, please.”

Louis takes his hand and shakes it, a bit of his ire diminishing at Harry’s sincerity. It’s hard to be mad at someone who looks ready to cry at the thought of ruining someone’s vacation.

“I’m Louis. And it’s… well, it’s been annoying, but I’m not necessarily on a vacation. I’m here working on a deadline, so it’s just been a bit distracting is all.”

Harry winces again, but Niall steps in before he can talk.

“Working? In a nice house like this? Alone? But it’s summer,” Niall says, ignoring the elbow Harry lands in his side.

“That it is, but I have an August 31st deadline,” Louis says simply.

“And again, so sorry. I can’t imagine trying to work with this thing going off,” Harry says, gesturing to the air pump.

“It’s alright. Really. You’re enjoying your summer,” Louis says, smiling a bit when Niall laughs.

“I’d enjoy it more with my hearing. We’ll be going into Milwaukee this weekend to find a new pump, that’s for sure. Hopefully ultrasonic, ya know?” he goads, kicking at the old thing. Louis smiles.

“I do. Anyway,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m going to head back. I, uh, need to go take a bath in some aloe.”

“Yeah, you do, dude. That’s a wicked burn,” Niall says, already turning towards the house. Harry is still looking at Louis, eyebrows pinched.

“If you need help,” Harry says, making a weird gesture with his hands, and Niall snorts as he walks into the house. Harry ignores him, even though Louis sees his lips twitch slightly.

“I think I got it, but thanks! Just a good night's sleep,” Louis jokes, winking slightly. Harry laughs softly, his lips finally turning up in a smile.

“I will be over to take care of the front plants sometime in the morning, but I’ll try to keep it down,” he says, winking as he reaches down to pick up the air pump. He stands up slowly, his shirt riding up a bit to reveal the lines of a tattoo on his stomach. Louis swallows and smiles.

“Thanks for letting me know, I wouldn’t want to rush out in my birthday suit because of some random noise,” he says before finally turning away. He doesn’t look back, even when he hears the raft start to drag. When he gets into the porch, the door clicking behind him, he immediately looks for his notebook.

He finds it on the living room table, tucked under his laptop. He pulls it out quickly, already chewing on the end of the pen he’s going to use. He hisses as his back hits the couch again, pain radiating up his spine.

_A green once seen in youth, the parks of a happier time._

\---

Louis wakes up the next morning in a mess of sheets, his body sweating despite the coolness of the bedroom. He groans as he stands up and heads to the bathroom, knowing nothing outside of a cold shower and some ibuprofen will help him now.

When he emerges from the bathroom later, wrapped in one of the softest towels he could find, he’s aware of noises coming from the front. Taking his time to towel off, Louis dresses in a soft shirt and loose jeans, letting his hair dry in a fluffy mess. By the time he’s popped a couple ibuprofen and found some food to eat, it sounds like Harry’s watering the plants.

He walks out onto the front porch, a part of the house he’s rarely used, and smiles when he sees Harry standing in front of the flower patch on the right side of the house. He’s wearing a ridiculously oversized gardening hat, one Louis is sure only mothers own, cut off jean shorts and a white t-shirt. From the looks of it, he’s barefoot. There’s also a huge tiger tattoo on his thigh. Louis swallows and takes a deep breath before he decides to speak.

“I didn’t know there was a derby in town.”

Harry jumps, the hose going haywire and splashing the side of the house. Louis giggles as Harry hurries to turn the water off, shaking his hands off as he drops the hose. He pats his hands against his chest as he looks up at Louis.

“What?” he asks, that little line between his eyebrows back.

“Your hat. I’ve only ever seen a hat that big at a derby,” Louis says, walking over so he can lean over the balcony to talk to Harry. As he settles his elbows on the railing, he sees recognition cross Harry’s face, and then he laughs.

“I’m not even sure where the closest track is,” he offers, reaching up and adjusting the hat on his head. The back of it dips, allowing the front to shift up and expose Harry’s face.

“Do they race horses in Wisconsin?”

“Where are you from?” Harry asks, laughing a little as he picks up the hose again and continues to water the flower beds. He waits for Louis to step back from the railing before watering the hanging boxes.

“Illinois.”

“They don’t race horses in Illinois,” Harry states, looking up at Louis seriously.

“Yeah, they do! The Illinois Derby! It’s run in early April every year outside Chicago,” Louis says, smiling a bit as Harry shakes his head.

“I don’t think that’s right.” Harry shuts off the hose and starts wrapping it up again. Louis moves to sit on the porch steps as Harry moves.

“What kind of rock do you live under?”

“A big one.”

Louis snorts, reaching up to cover his face as he laughs quickly. He shakes his head, catching a glimpse of a smug smile on Harry’s face. When he finally has the hose wound up and hanging on it’s hook again, Harry turns to look at Louis.

“Is your sunburn better?” he asks, shuffling across the grass to lean against the stairway railing, pushing his ridiculous hat up a bit. Louis nods.

“Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix,” Louis says easily, leaning back on his hands. Harry nods, pursing his lips.

“I guess that means you won’t be going out on the water for awhile.”

“Oh, contraire. I’ll just remember sunscreen this time,” Louis says, winking exaggeratedly at Harry. It gets him to chuckle, and Louis smiles to himself. “Why, are you planning on inviting me out on one of your rafts?”

“Actually,” Harry starts, shifting his weight slightly. “I might’ve. Niall’s invited this guy he’s been kind of seeing out with us, and I wasn’t looking forward to being the third wheel. But, if you’re too sunburned, I --”

“Wait, you and Niall aren’t dating?” Louis blurts out. Harry stares at him for a moment before bursting into giggles, hat flopping down over his eyes as he shakes his head.

“You - oh my God. I have to tell Niall. I - you thought - me? And Niall?” Harry laughs again, waving his hands in front of his body. “God, no. I could not. I love him, but I would kill him.”

“I’m sorry, I just - the other night you guys came home drunk and I saw you two stumbling into the house,” Louis starts, jumping a little when Harry starts to laugh harder.

“Oh, goodness. I’m sure that was a wonderful impression. Did we wake you? God, we’re the worst neighbors.”

“Something like that,” Louis says, chuckling when Harry glares at him.

“No, Niall and I aren’t dating. He’s been… trying to ‘make it official’ with this friend of ours. They’ve both had weird crushes on each other for… a long time. I think this is the summer they finally get their shit together,” Harry says as he fixes his hat again. He moves it until the front sticks up, eyebrows pinched in concentration. Louis feels far too endeared towards someone he just met.

“How sweet,” Louis offers when Harry seems to get entirely distracted by his hat. He stops playing with it and sighs, blinking a few times before he picks up where he left off.

“But, yeah, that’s why I asked, uh, if you were going to go back out on the water. We’re going out on Sunday, if you aren’t busy and want an excuse to get drunk,” Harry offers, shrugging slightly. His shoulders hunch over a bit and Louis finds himself sitting up and smiling at Harry.

“What time?” he asks, stomach fluttering when Harry’s face breaks out in a wide grin, a deep dimple appearing in his cheek.

“Sometime around noon. That’ll give Niall enough time to sleep in, as he’s one to do. It’s not a vacation if you’re up every day before Culver’s opens,” Harry says, chuckling softly. Louis nods slowly, mulling that bit of information over in his head.

“Solid advice,” he says after a moment, Harry snorting as he pushes himself off the railing.

“Anyway,” he makes an aborted motion with his hands, “I’ll leave you to your… work. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Actually, yeah, where’s the nearest Culver’s? I could really use some cheese curds,” Louis says, standing and brushing off his pants.

“It’s off West Grand --”

“Great, I’ll drive.” Louis turns on his heel up towards the house, then stops to look over his shoulder at a very confused looking Harry. “Unless you’re busy. Have other houses to upkeep.”

“No, no!” Harry rushes to say, shaking his head hard enough that the hat moves. “No, lemme just uh, change.”

“You look fine, hat and all. And I’ll buy, since I’m kidnapping you.”

“You aren’t kidnapping me, for _several_ reasons,” Harry replies, taking the hat off his head. He ruffles up his hair, bouncing the curls back to life, and Louis turns away again.

“You can tell me in the car.”

\---

Harry relaxes once they’re in the drive-thru line, which is busier than Louis expected it to be for such a small town. Harry had fidgeted the whole drive over, speaking mostly to give directions and offer information about whatever parts of town they drove past. Once Louis comes to a stop, though, he relaxes back into the seat and turns to look at Louis. His hat is spread out in the backseat.

“So, uh, what do you do? You said you were here working?” Harry asks, bringing one of his knees up to his chin, his foot planting on the seat. Louis would complain if it was his car, but it’s Zayn’s, and he still hasn’t decided on whether he wants to forgive him for telling his mom yet.

“I’m a writer, novelist if you want to get fancy.”

“Like, published?” Harry asks, a bit of excitement in his voice. Louis looks over at him as he eases off the brakes to let the car roll forward a bit. Outside his window, a gaggle of teenagers sit around the outside tables, talking loudly.

“Not yet. I kinda stumbled into this by having a short piece published in a local paper. I’d submitted it to a bunch of places and this one paper liked it enough, which caught the attention of someone at a publishing firm. It’s all been a whirlwind.”

“That sounds fantastic. What kind of novel are you writing?” Harry asks, leaning back against the door now. He seems to be struggling to get comfortable, bringing his other foot up onto the seat. Before Louis can answer, his legs flop open and slide so they’re crossed at his calves.

“It’s, uh, a novel about life, I guess. I wouldn’t call it a romance novel, but it’s about a relationship and life.”

“Keeping your cards close to your chest, I like it. Now I’ll have to buy the book,” Harry jokes, smiling as Louis chuckles.

“If I ever manage to finish it,” Louis mumbles quietly, catching out of the corner of his eye how Harry’s mouth turns down in a frown. Louis pulls forward so they’re the next car to order and Harry clears his throat.

“Lacking inspiration?” Harry asks quietly, incredibly sincere. Louis reaches up and turns down the radio a bit.

“A little,” he confesses. “It’s really why Zayn sent me here. I was starting to just sit in front of my computer, document open, while I browsed Twitter on my phone for a couple hours. There’s a million emails in my inbox about my deadlines.”

“A million seems an over exaggeration,” Harry mumbles, giggling quietly when Louis flips him off.

“It felt like a million. But anyway, here I am. In Wisconsin. About to eat cheese curds for the first time, and trying to find inspiration,” Louis says, waving his arms dramatically. Harry’s eyes are wide when he looks over at him.

“Okay, wait, there’s like two parts to that I need to respond to,” Harry starts, earning a soft laugh from Louis. “One; you’ve never had cheese curds?”

“Nope. Never,” Louis says, smiling when Harry blinks dramatically. It’s then that they’re able to pull forward to order.

The girl comes through the speaker and Louis is about to open his mouth to speak when Harry leans across him, ordering for them both. Louis can barely keep up with what he’s saying, has no idea what he’s being ordered, but it’s all stuff Culver’s apparently sells.

“None of that’s gross, right?” Louis asks as they pull forward, and Harry laughs.

“No, it’s all delicious. And we’ll take it back to the back deck on your place. Mom wouldn’t let Niall and I stay in that house because the deck is a selling point,” Harry says, frowning. Louis nods empathetically.

“It is a lovely deck,” he says, laughing as Harry frowns deeper.

\---

They’re sitting in opposite chairs around the table on the deck, a family sized order of cheese curds open between them. Harry had also ordered them both something called a lemon ice cooler mixed with raspberries. It’s like a soft serve popsicle, and Louis was truly delighted.

“All delicious?” Harry asks as Louis puts down his empty cup. There’s only a few cheese curds left so Louis scoops them up in his hand and sticks his tongue out at Harry.

“Yes, actually. Thank you,” Louis says, dipping the curds in the sauces.

“Well, thank  you for paying. And kidnapping me, as well. It was a delightful experience, far better than I assume an actual kidnapping to be,” Harry says as he gathers the trash on the table. He shoves everything into the bag and smashes it into a ball with ease.

“You joke as though we aren’t near Milwaukee,” Louis replies, sitting back in his chair. Harry doesn’t answer right away, bouncing the smashed up garbage in his hand. He shakes himself once before looking over at Louis and blinking.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “So, uh, what you said before. About trying to find inspiration.”

It’s obvious in the way he says it that it’s been bugging him since before they ordered. Louis nods slowly, gesturing with his hand for Harry to continue.

“I, uh…” he trails off a bit, turning in his chair so he can gesture out towards the lake. “I don’t mean to like, tell you what to do.”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” Louis jokes, and Harry chuckles, the lines of his shoulders relaxing.

“But I know that, when I’m feeling… lacking, I spend some time on the water. I know it’s probably a bit of a cliche, and since Niall said you’re from Chicago I know the lake isn’t new to you, but there’s something about being up here and by the lake that seems to… bring inspiration to you. Whenever I need a spark, I find it after a day on the lake.”

Louis watches Harry as he talks, the way his mouth moves as he forms the words. He seems to be piecing his sentence together as he goes, figuring out the words only seconds before he says them. Louis finds himself fascinated, watching his every move.

“Well,” Louis says, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. “I might join you guys out on the water on Sunday, then.”

The smile Harry flashes him feels inspiring in it’s own right.

\---

Louis doesn’t see much of Niall or Harry on Saturday, though he spends the day cooped up inside, basking in the blessed AC and writing. He leaves once, and it’s only because he’s run out of tea bags.

On Sunday, he sleeps in until the sun’s slanting in through the window and across his face. He figures that’s a better wake up call than any alarm or the noise from next door, so he gets up and gets ready for the day slowly. It isn’t until he’s showered, dressed, and in the kitchen finding breakfast when he remembers.

And that’s only because someone knocks on the front door.

He opens the door in a rush, smiling widely at Harry, standing on the porch in pink swim shorts, an open Hawaiian shirt, and his large hat. Harry smiles at him, eyes moving to take in Louis’ old cut off sweatpants and black tank top.

“Late morning?” Harry asks, and Louis chuckles.

“I was up late catching up on some television after I finished my writing goal for yesterday,” Louis says, jumping a bit when Harry cheers.

“Good, so you’re all good to come out on the water with us then?” he asks, sounding a little hopeful. Over his shoulder, in the front yard of the other house, Louis can see Niall getting one of the coolers ready. A man Louis doesn’t know comes off the front porch and joins Niall, talking quietly as they stand close. Very close.

“I assume that’s the guy Niall’s trying to get with?” Louis asks, and Harry looks over his shoulder and nods.

“That’s him. They’re already driving me nuts,” Harry mumbles, though he doesn’t look too upset. There’s a pleased smile on his face that tells Louis he’s been waiting for this for awhile.

“Don’t like being the third wheel?”

“I can _be_ the third wheel. Growing up, I practically excelled at it. They’re just… a lot. I might kill Niall before we leave,” Harry says with a laugh, and Louis wholeheartedly believes him.

“Well, if you give me ten minutes, I’ll be ready to go,” Louis says, gesturing inside. Harry smiles at him, waving him away and moving to sit on the porch steps.

\---

They’re not even on the water yet when Louis begins to understand what Harry’s talking about.

Niall and Liam, Liam Payne (as he’d introduced himself) are loud and goofy, constantly giggling at something Louis doesn’t understand. And, he was slowly gathering, Harry didn’t understand either. It was like their entire interaction was an inside joke. Part of Louis felt some tug in his stomach at how they were, the obvious chemistry and happiness between them. It made him nostalgic, a little sad.

But another part, a growing part, was a little irked.

Niall and Liam are floating a good ten feet away from where Louis and Harry are sitting in their own tubes. Niall has the cooler tied to the large raft he and Liam are floating on. Over the distant sounds of children screaming somewhere down the beach and the splashing of water, Louis can hear Liam giggling.

“Do they always giggle?” Louis asks, turning his head to the right to look at Harry. His nose is still white with sunblock, even though he’s wearing his ridiculous hat.

“Yeah, but I think that’s better than Niall’s cackle,” he says, shifting to sit up more and move himself closer to Louis.

“I’ve heard that once or twice,” Louis says with a smile, earning a chuckle out of Harry.

The breeze keeps pushing them farther into the water, away from the shore and any noise from the beaches. Louis closes his eyes and lets himself float, only vaguely aware that Harry’s keeping with him. Without a watch or his phone, he has no idea how long they go without talking before Harry breaks the silence.

“If we don’t watch it, we’ll float into Michigan waters,” Harry jokes. Louis laughs so suddenly he snorts, sitting up and shaking his head as Harry tugs him closer.

“I hardly doubt we could do that,” Louis says, still laughing. Harry shrugs, his hat now laid across his lap. He looks out across the water, towards the horizon and possibly far beyond that, to where Michigan lies somewhere past the curve. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders moving slowly, before he looks at Louis again.

“We’d have to train a lot. I’d want to know your last name first.”

Louis laughs again, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair to level Harry with a look. Harry’s smiling sheepishly, shrugging again. Louis isn’t sure if it’s the sun or embarrassment that’s making Harry’s cheeks so pink.

“That was smooth,” Louis laughs, twisting on the tube until he’s laying on his stomach, arms hanging over the edge and into the water. It’s cooler out here on the water, but it’s still a hot Midwestern day. He can feel the sweat on his neck.

“I could always just… look at the rental records, I suppose…” Harry says slowly, putting his hand to his chin and looking up. Louis rolls his eyes, splashing water up onto his legs. Harry shrieks as he pulls his hat up and back onto his head, holding it close. “Excuse me!”

“I’m sorry, I won’t abuse the hat,” Louis deadpans, fighting a laugh as Harry nods. “And my last name is Tomlinson. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Harry Twist.”

“Oh, uh, actually, that’s just my mom’s last name. Mine’s Styles. Harry Styles,” Harry says, offering out his hand. Louis reaches up to shake it as his brain logs that information.

“That’s your real name? Not like… a pen name?”

“I don’t have any pseudonyms, besides whatever names my sister gave me when we used to have fake tea parties,” Harry says thoughtfully, frowning down at his lap. “Niall calls me Harold.”

“Isn’t that your name?”

“Nope, just Harry.”

Louis shakes his head, dropping his arms into the water again. He watches Harry as he settles back, dropping in the tube a bit so most of his body is folded up under the brim of his hat. It’s almost comical to watch, and Louis zones out for a moment. When he comes back to his senses, Harry’s smirking at him.

“Hey, not to make this awkward --”

“It’s going to be.”

“-- but, uh, thanks for inviting me out here,” Louis finishes, ignoring Harry’s comment. He watches as Harry’s smile becomes genuine, the glint in his eyes softens. There’s so much written on his face, Louis wants to write it all down. His hands twitch.

“You’re welcome. I hope it helps, with the writing process,” Harry replies sincerely, reaching up to fidget with his hat.

“I think getting out of the house and having some form of human contact will help a lot. I realized yesterday, after I essentially kidnapped you and took you to Culver’s, that I was missing socialization in my forced isolation. So, thanks.” Louis smiles, clamping his mouth shut as he realizes he’s overshared again. Part of his late night introspection lately has been about how he has no one to share his inane thoughts with anymore, and how much random stuff he’s ended up saying to complete strangers lately.

“Hey, what did I say?” Harry starts, pulling Louis back to the present again, and he shrugs. “You didn’t kidnap me, for a _variety_ of reasons. Don’t worry about it. I understand, kinda. I’m a teacher, and I sometimes find myself rambling to any adult who will listen on Saturdays. There’s only so much Minecraft talk I can take in a week.”

Louis chuckles, a bit of the tight anxiety in his chest loosening as Harry talks. The wind picks up, almost pulling Harry’s hat off his head, and he reaches up to hold it down by the sides.

“I have two teenage sisters who only ever want to talk about Youtube drama. I love them, but there’s only so much space left in my brain for new information,” Louis jokes as he splashes water up onto his back. Harry nods, laughing.

“Exactly. So, don’t worry about it. We all need some adult interaction sometimes.”

Louis stares at Harry long enough for Harry to roll his eyes, reaching down into the lake to splash water on Louis’ face. Louis closes his eyes and shakes his head, spraying water out of his mouth in Harry’s direction.

“I meant just talking, silly,” Harry says as Louis nods.

“And then you proceeded to splash my face,” Louis says, smirking at he opens his eyes. Harry’s face turns the reddest Louis’ seen it all day, and he groans as he leans back in his tube and covers his face with his hat. He flips off Louis as Louis continues to giggle to himself.

\---

It’s not until they’re all in Harry and Niall’s backyard that Louis gets to talk with Liam. Harry’s across the yard at the grill, a plate of burgers and foil wrapped corn on the table next to him. Niall’s somewhere inside getting all of the sides ready. In their absence, Liam slides into the seat next to Louis.

“So, Niall tells me you’re staying in the house next door? And are a writer?” Liam asks, handing Louis a water bottle. Louis takes it with a smile, holding the condensation covered bottle to his chest.

“Yeah, I’m trying to meet a deadline. Thought some fresh air and cheese curds would help, you know?” Louis jokes, and Liam nods.

“Where are you from, then?”

“Chicago, on the north side.”

Liam perks up a bit, leaning in his chair so he’s closer to Louis.

“Oh, awesome! I live and work downtown! So do Harry and Niall… well, not in downtown, but we all live and work in the Chicago area,” Liam says excitedly. Louis frowns.

“What do you do?”

“I work for the city, actually, doing housing development and urban planning. It’s how I met Niall, actually. He works for an interior design company that the city contacts to decorate the apartments we show. And through Niall I met Harry, obviously, who works at Pritzker.”

“Really?!” Louis says, a little too loudly. He looks over at Harry, who shrugs as he continues to get the grill ready. Niall walks out the backdoor, carrying all of the condiments needed for burgers, as well as two bowls. Harry hurries to help him before responding to Louis.

“Yeah, I’m really lucky, as it’s not easy to get a teaching job there, but I’ve been doing art for a long time and have had a couple pieces in exhibits. They also had an opening when I first applied, so…” Harry shrugs, and Niall shakes his head.

“Harry’s too humble. He’s a fantastic artist, has had more than a couple pieces in exhibits and sold more than that, and he’s an amazing teacher. The work his students produce is incredible!”

“Okay, Niall,” Harry says, shoving at his friend gently. Niall shakes his head, winking at Louis.

“That’s an awesome school to work at, Harry. You all have cool jobs,” Louis says as he finally opens his water bottle, taking a sip. Niall laughs.

“I think being a writer is really cool. You’re creating a world for me to look into, you know? Like, I just know how to throw a room together. But you’re doing that, and giving me an emotional journey too.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing he’s ever said,” Harry mumbles as he flips the burgers. Niall laughs and sits down next to Liam, Louis smiling a little when their hands tangle together.

“Why do you slander me?”

“It’s not slander if it’s true.”

“So, Louis,” Liam says loudly as Niall and Harry continue to jab at each other. They’re both smiling and laughing softly. “When do you go back to Chicago?”

“Next Friday. This trips already been super helpful, and I’ve managed to finish sections and fill in the gaps I’d left open previously. I’m still struggling on the climax and conclusion, but I have until the end of August to complain about it,” Louis jokes, something he’s said to Zayn a million times. But Liam doesn’t giggle, rather, he looks at Louis seriously.

“Are writing the endings always an issue? I would think they’re the best part to write, as you get to tie everything up,” Liam asks.

“Well, yes and no. Endings are hard because sometimes it’s nearly impossible to find the right place to stop. And then there’s a pressure to feel like you have to end it on some fantastic quote, thanks JK Rowling. I’m just struggling a bit lately, which is frustrating, but I’m sure I’ll get it,” Louis explains slowly, aware that they’re all listening to him now. Liam reaches over when Louis finishes and squeezes his forearm.

“I’m sure you’ll find that inspiration,” he says sincerely, Niall nodding behind him. Louis feels a bit overwhelmed at his sincerity, so he simply nods. Across the yard, Harry clears his throat.

“Food’s ready,” he says, breaking the moment. Niall’s out of his chair immediately, Liam following right behind. When Louis stands up, he catches Harry staring at him. Louis smiles at him and Harry smiles back before Niall pulls his attention away.

\---

On Monday, Louis packs up his laptop bag and makes his way to one of the local coffee shops in town. He gets there at open and sets up shop at one of the corner tables, ordering some breakfast and one of their specialty brews. He puts in his headphones after getting his order and settles in for a long day of writing.

He’s leaning back in his chair, staring at his computer sideways, when the bells above the door jingle and Niall walks in. Louis watches as he goes to the counter and orders two drinks. Letting his head roll to the left, Louis catches sight of Liam outside holding the leash of a giant dog. From the looks of it, he’s trying to teach the dog a couple tricks.

Louis is still looking out the windows at Liam when Niall spots him, walking over quietly. He bumps into Louis’ table, startling Louis slightly, who sits up and yanks his headphones out of his ears.

“Can I help you?” he asks, laughing nervously. Niall chuckles at him, quiet for once, and gestures to his table.

“Working hard? Watson’’s pretty inspirational, huh?”

“Watson?” Louis asks, eyebrows pinched as he looks at Niall. Gesturing out the window, Niall makes a muffled barking sound.

“Liam’s dog, Watson. He’s pretty inspirational, right?” Niall asks, obviously teasing now. Louis relaxes back into the chair, shaking his head.

“He’s a big guy,” he says easily, watching as the dog holds up a single paw. Liam reaches down to hold it and then gives the dog a treat.

“You here working on that draft?” Niall asks, looking at the mess on Louis’ table. He has both of his notebooks, laptop, a variety of chewed on pens, an empty coffee cup, and a copy of his first draft spread about. His first draft is covered in fingerprints and various beverage stains. His first notebook is close to fraying apart.

“No, I’m going for a swim,” Louis replies, kicking his legs under the table. Niall rolls his eyes and nudges him, looking around the room.

“I’m surprised Harry isn’t here yet; he comes in here on Mondays and catches up on work emails and his lessons plans. He has to have everything ready to go by the middle of August,” Niall says, looking towards the counter as his name is called.

He gives a little wave as he walks away from Louis, and then a bigger one as he heads outside. Louis looks back down at his computer, his eyes unfocusing for a moment, missing Liam waving goodbye to him as well.

\---

It’s hours later, as Louis is making a big black blob on one of the pages in his notebook, that a shadow falls over his table. Sitting up slowly, Louis unwittingly smiles when he realizes it’s Harry standing next to his table, looking over the mess.

“Making headway?” he asks as Louis takes out his headphones. He has a laptop bag slung over his shoulder and he’s holding what looks like iced coffee with no milk. Louis smiles up at him.

“Depends.”

“On what?” Harry laughs, shifting his weight. Louis looks out and around the store and realizes that there isn’t an empty table in the store. Even the stools at the bar are taken. Leaning forward, Louis starts tidying up his table.

“On what you count a headway. Is it finally going through my inbox and deleting all of the emails I don’t need and putting all of my important ones into folders? Or is it lining out all of my bad ideas and then putting all of my good ideas on a single page for prosperity, and then spilling water on that page?”

“Sounds like you’re making progress to me,” Harry says as he sits down, taking Louis silent invitation. He pulls his laptop out of his bag and sets it on the table gently. When he looks down again to peer into his bag, Louis realizes there’s a pink clip in his hair, keeping his hair out of his eyes. Louis’ smiling when Harry sits back up, holding headphones and a pen.

“I’m doing better than I was. I think it’s all this sunshine,” Louis mumbles, looking out the window at the sunny street. It’s another sweaty, hot day. Louis left the comforts of air conditioning wearing shorts and a loose t-shirt at eight in the morning. Harry’s wearing his cut off jeans and a blush pink shirt.

“I told you the water would help,” Harry says happily, a dimple appearing in his cheek as he smiles. Louis can’t help but smile back, his chest a little fluttery.

“I guess you were right,” he says quietly, enjoying the smile on Harry’s face a second more before he shifts in his seat. “So, what are you working on today?”

“I haven’t checked my work email all week, as I’ve been too busy making sure Niall doesn’t kill himself, so I need to go through it. I also have to submit more lesson plans. I don’t like leaving it until the week before school starts,” Harry explains as he boots up his computer, sticking his pen in his mouth. Louis looks at the two pens on top of his notebooks, teeth marks galore.

“You have lessons plans? You don’t just… paint whatever you’re feeling that day?” Louis asks, making sure he doesn’t sound too sarcastic. Harry laughs regardless, his pen dropping into his lap. He picks it up and sticks it in his hair.

“No, we do that on Wednesdays. Let the creativity flow and see what we get. The rest of the week we have technique to focus on. There are a lot of naturally talented kids, but you don’t just… naturally learn perspective, you know?”

“I’m no good at perspective,” Louis mumbles.

“Exactly. So we teach the kids and hope that, some day, they’ll receive criticism for anything else. Maybe their use of colors or that their swirls are too big. But not their perspective!” Harry says, snapping his fingers. He pulls his pen from his hair and sticks it back in his mouth as he starts typing on his computer.

“Were you critiqued for your use of color?” Louis asks, a knowing smile on his face. Harry’s nose scrunches up as he makes a face, glaring up at Louis.

“I was a teenager, my use of color was fine.”

Louis chuckles, moving more of his stuff to the chair next to him so that Harry has more room. They shuffle around for a few more moments before settling, finding an easy way to share the space. As soon as he’s comfortable in his chair, Harry’s eyes focus on the computer screen and he gets quiet. Louis watches him for a moment longer than what’s normal before he looks back at his own laptop.

As he puts his headphones back in and focuses on the laptop screen, something nudges his foot under the table. Smiling at his laptop, Louis gets back to work.

\---

Louis has his chin in his hands, eyes watering from being open so long, and a nearly destroyed pen in his mouth when Harry reaches over and gently closes his laptop. Louis jumps, the pen dropping into his lap, eyes burning as he finally binks. He reaches up to rub at them and pulls out his headphones, glaring at Harry.

“I don’t even let my best friend do that, so you better have a good reason right now,” he snaps softly, and Harry holds his hands up.

“You looked like you were about to have a panic attack. I’m sorry,” Harry says quietly, putting his hands down flat on the table. Louis stares at them as he takes a few deep breaths, recognizing the growing panic in his chest. He hasn’t had a single writing related panic attack since coming to Wisconsin, and he doesn’t want to have one in a coffee shop in front of Harry.

Letting out a deep breath, Louis places his hands down on the table next to Harry’s. He finally looks up and offers Harry the best smile he can manage.

“I was, I didn’t even realize.” Louis takes another breath and as he lets it out, Harry gently takes his hands. They’re warm, soft, and real in that very moment, pulling Louis back into himself faster than he’d like to admit. His chest gives a lurch.

“Are you okay? Do you want to leave?” Harry asks, and Louis shakes his head. He looks down at their table and counts to ten in his head.

“I just need some water. I think I’m done writing for the day, though.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely done writing for the day,” Harry says with a laugh as he gets up from the table. Before Louis can protest, Harry’s across the room at the counter, asking for a glass of water.

Harry walks back over with two to-go cups of water, placing one down in front of Louis before he sits again. He stares at Louis, waiting for him to pick up the cup, so Louis puts his hands around it and pulls it to his chest.

“Thank you,” Louis says, and Harry nods.

“Drink the water,” he says softly, smiling. There’s something about his dimple that makes Louis’ stomach flutter.

“Oh, gonna boss me around now?” Louis says, his voice still a bit monotonous. Harry chokes on his water, covering his face with his hand as he laughs. Louis feels a bit better as he watches Harry, drinking the entire cup of water in one go.

“I boss because I care,” Harry croaks, hand on his chest. He shakes his head as Louis chuckles, smiling as he takes another sip of his water. Louis holds his empty cup to his chest, letting the condensation cool him. He watches Harry as he finishes his water and shakes himself.

“So,” Louis starts, reaching to start packing up his things. “If I’m done writing for the day, what are we doing?”

Harry smiles, something a little mischievous, and Louis can’t help the giddy feeling in his stomach at what that smile means.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Harry says happily.

\---

“I should’ve asked for more specifics,” Louis says as Harry drives down I-43 towards Milwaukee. He hasn’t said anything about where they’re going, hasn’t said much since they got into the car besides telling Louis he can pick the music.

“Why?” Harry asks, chuckling softly. He checks his mirrors and then moves into the right lane to let someone pass.

“Where are we going? For all I know, you’re a serial killer taking me to his killing house!” Louis says dramatically, getting Harry to laugh. Turning in his seat, Louis faces Harry and points a finger at him. “If you want to kill me, you better make it good!”

“I’m not going to kill you! I feel like you’re forgetting that you kidnapped me once,” Harry says, knocking Louis’ hand away. Louis bats back at him before responding.

“You told me that, for a _variety_ of reasons, I did not kidnap you.”

“And I’m not going to kill you,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. He’s still smiling, dimple deep in his cheek.

“Then where are we going? What am I supposed to think if you won’t tell me!” Louis sighs, looking out the window. By his own estimate, they’re only about ten minutes away from Milwaukee.

“Someplace I like to visit at least once when I’m in Wisconsin,” Harry says cryptically, merging back into the left lane. Louis glares at him, deciding that messing with him more would endanger both of their lives. He turns back towards the dashboard, pulling his legs up onto the seat.

“It’s your murder house, isn’t it? I’m looking up yearly murders,” Louis says finally, and Harry makes a noise somewhere between a honk and a laugh.

“No, God, don’t ruin the surprise,” Harry says, reaching over and poking Louis leg.

“Now it’s a surprise?”

“Yes it is. You’re too impatient.”

Louis chuckles, rolling his head along the headrest to stare at the side of Harry’s head. He sighs heavily when his glaring doesn’t work on Harry and resorts to plugging his phone into the aux and picking the music. He scrolls through his library until he gives up on picking a specific song and just puts it on shuffle.

It’s fifteen minutes later that Louis finds himself in the parking lot of a Milwaukee County Park. A sign near the entrance says ‘horticultural conservatory’, and three giant glass domes stand before him. Louis is very intrigued.

“A county park?” Louis asks as he waits for Harry at the front of the car.

“The Domes. A Milwaukee classic,” Harry says, walking up next to Louis. His sunglasses are down over his eyes but Louis can tell by the smile on his face that he’s excited.

“Is it like a nature preserve?”

“I don’t know. There’s a lot of cool plants and things to smell, so I like it! I’ve found some painting inspiration here,” Harry says, gently guiding Louis to start walking with a hand on Louis’ back.

They follow the pathway down towards the main entrance, Louis looking around the area and trusting the slight pressure Harry’s still putting on his lower back to guide him. There are kids playing in bubbling water fountains set into the ground, people eating picnics on the grass, and a group of teenagers hanging out at one of the picnic tables.

Louis is so busy looking around once they walk inside that he misses Harry paying their admission. By the time he’s paying attention again, Harry’s waving him over towards the tropical dome entrance.

“Harry, did you pay?”

“Yeah, you were kinda busy looking at the gift shop,” Harry says with a laugh, pulling on the bottom of Louis shirt to get him to move. There’s a lot more physical touching going on than Louis’ dealt with recently and he feels a little giddy.

There’s a family in front of them at the entrance to the tropical dome, so Harry hands Louis his ticket as they wait. Louis pulls his phone out of his back pocket and snaps a picture of the ticket, sending it to his mom. He hasn’t talked to her since last week, and realizes he needs to send her some sort of update that he’s alive.

When they finally get inside, the atmosphere is only a couple degrees hotter than it was outside. Milwaukee, like Chicago, can be cooler in the summer because of Lake Michigan, but Louis has felt some sub-tropical heat waves in his life.

“This is what hell feels like,” Louis says as he pulls his shirt away from his body, looking around. Harry chuckles next to him, jerking his head to the left when Louis looks up at him.

“My personal hell is when it’s twenty below zero,” Harry mumbles, keeping his voice low as they walk. Harry’s holding a tour card in his hand with information about the plants, which Louis takes from him easily.

“So you think that hell would be a Midwestern winter?”

“Hell _is_ a Midwestern winter, but one like they get up in the U.P. Where it snows four feet overnight and you have to go out and try to drive to work because if you don’t go in, they’ll fire you. And you just relive that day over and over again, and that’s hell.”

Louis laughs, a little too loudly, and he covers his mouth with his hand as he shakes his head. Harry looks far too smug as he takes the tour card back to identify a flower in front of them.

“The thought of that alone made me feel absolute terror,” Louis says, pulling out his phone again. He takes some pictures of the flowers around them, managing to capture the image of one of the many birds flying around.

“My mom loves orchids,” Louis says as he finds a pretty one to take a picture of. Harry’s right behind him still, keeping the space between them relatively small. “She’ll want to bring the kids here now that she knows there’s an orchid wall.”

“How many siblings do you have?” Harry asks quietly, bending down slightly to see the view on Louis phone as he takes more pictures.

“A handful. Six, to be exact. Two sets of twins and two not twins, then me,” Louis explains absently as he looks at some of the more interestingly colored flowers. One of the has stripes.

“That’s a big family,” Harry replies. “I just have one sister, I can’t imagine having more.”

“I have five sisters and one baby brother. It’s just me and Ernie against them all,” Louis jokes, finally moving away from the wall. He follows the path up an incline, Harry still next to him, and then they’re standing on a small bridge over the water feature in the middle of the dome.

“Oh cool, koi fish!” Louis says, leaning over the railing to look at the fish below. They’re huge and brightly colored, swimming around in the rippling water. There’s a small waterfall on the other side of the bridge that keeps the water moving and sends a small spray up at the people on the bridge. When Louis looks over his shoulder for Harry, he sees him up against the opposite railing, letting the spray cover him.

“You don’t know what’s in that water. Could be koi poop,” Louis teases, laughing as Harry flinches and moves away. A woman standing nearby glares at him, but Louis ignores her.

“Thanks, for that,” Harry deadpans, moving off the bridge completely. Louis chuckles as he follows.

They spend another twenty minutes in the tropical dome, trying to see the birds, looking for the cool looking frogs, and playing with the sensitive plants. Finally, Louis decides he needs to get out of the humidity and pulls at Harry’s shirt until he follows Louis out into the lobby.

When they walk into the desert dome, Louis makes sure to grab his own tour card to look at. Once they’re through the door, Louis blinks rapidly at the stark contrast in the atmosphere, the dry air zapping the moisture off his body.  

“Oh, I like this one a lot,” Harry says, walking ahead of Louis and throwing his arms out as he spins in place. Louis rolls his eyes, moving right into Harry’s space and pushing him along the path.

“This lack of humidity just means you die of dehydration without ever knowing you were dehydrated.”

“You’re so cheerful today,” Harry says, poking at Louis even as Louis scowls at him and walks ahead.

There’s plants Louis has never seen before in every corner of the space, so he pulls out his phone and takes some pictures of the interesting ones. He ignores the texts from his mom, asking him a bunch of questions, to send her more pictures of the cactus and trees.

“Louis, look,” Harry says quietly after a few moments of mutual silence, coming up behind Louis and putting his hand on Louis back again. He points up ahead, to a railing along the walkway. Sitting there, side by side, are two birds. Their little heads are turning every which way, chirping away. Louis turns his head to look at Harry and finds them to be much closer than he anticipated, with a very close view of Harry’s very green eyes. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, something like a sigh, before he remembers himself and looks at the birds.

“It, uh, it says their names on the tour card,” he says, though it comes out strained. Harry pulls the card out of his pocket and flips it over, smiling as he reads the names.

“Frida and Angus. It says they’re best friends,” Harry coos softly, showing Louis excitedly. His eyes are sparkling in the shade of the trees, bright and happy in a way that feels uniquely Harry.

“Take a picture,” Louis whispers, and Harry nods. He opens his camera app and zooms in enough to make out their little faces. He snaps a few photos before they take off, flying up into the canopy.

“They even fly together,” Harry exclaims, body moving as he turns to follow their flight path. Louis watches Harry instead of the birds, cataloguing the lines of his neck and the way his hair curls at the back. When he turns back to Louis, the dimple is in his cheek.

“Wanna go see the lizard?”

“You mean the bearded dragon named Steve?” Harry asks, already moving towards the enclosure. Louis laughs.

“Yes, I mean Steve. Who named him that?”

“A genius.”

Louis giggles as Harry pulls him along to the bearded dragon, where they join the other people staring in at the animal basking under the heat lamp on his rock. Louis takes two pictures and sends them to the large group chat he has with his sisters. Almost instantly, Daisy and Phoebe reply and ask him where he is. He shuts his phone instead.

“Ignoring texts?” Harry asks, nudging Louis gently. Louis looks up at him and steps back from the enclosure, heading towards a bench near the small water feature. There’s papyrus reeds in the water, and Louis wants to focus on them, but Harry speaks again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be nosy.”

“No, it’s fine. I haven’t been in much contact with my family, and they wanna know where I’m at and what I’m up to, you know? I haven’t said anything in the sibling group chat in days and the first thing I send is a bearded dragon?”

“Sounds like an older sibling,” Harry says, and Louis rolls his eyes.

“Sounds like a youngest sibling,” he laughs, making Harry roll his eyes.

“If you’re done, we have one more dome to see. And it’s my favorite.”

Louis shrugs, gesturing towards the exit doors, and Harry leads the way.

Walking into the show dome, Louis mouth falls open at the sight. The tour card informed him that the current theme was “Fathoms Below,” or a floral show based off the ocean depths. There are sculptures meant to look like waves, schools of fish, and seaweed next to floral installations, all spread out in the circle. The room smells amazing, like somethings in peak bloom, and Louis feels himself relax.

“Oh… wow,” he sighs, looking up towards the ceiling. Even the light coming in has a blue tint, giving the room a glowing feel. Harry makes a happy noise behind him and when Louis turns around, Harry’s phone is already out and pointed towards Louis.

“Let’s find some pieces to take pictures of, there’s lots of inspiration here,” Harry hurries to say, pushing Louis out of the way of people coming in.

They find huge pots of succulents, as well as climbing plants and blue and purple flowers. There’s a damp wall of moss that Harry takes multiple pictures of, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. There isn’t a water feature built into the floor like the other domes, but there’s small fountains around the edges of the display, and everywhere they go, they can hear running water. The rooms much cooler than the other two, and Louis walks ahead of Harry to sit on a bench while Harry takes pictures.

From the bench, he can look out across the room and watch people as they experience everything. There are people like Harry, who are taking pictures, but also people simply standing in front of each piece, staring at it quietly. There’s a few kids running around, less interested than their parents, but also being respectfully quiet.

Harry walks over and sits down next to Louis after a bit, joining him in silence as they each look around the room. Louis fiddles with the tour card and zones out as he stares at one of the fish sculptures across the room, though he’s aware that Harry’s still taking pictures.

After awhile, Louis turns his head to look at Harry. His arms are limp in his lap, head tilted back, eyes closed. His chest moves with deep breaths, and Louis watches as he brings his head up and opens his eyes like he knew Louis was watching. He smiles, though he doesn’t turn to look back at Louis, his hands coming together between his legs.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Louis murmurs, lightly touching Harry’s forearm.

“You’re welcome.” He shifts, moving closer to Louis. “I do try to come here once a year, and I like to encourage my students to come here. There’s just…” Harry trails off, eyes moving around the room. Finally, he turns and looks at Louis, face surprisingly serious. His gaze is steady and there’s a crinkle between his eyes. “There’s so much inspiration to find in nature, in unexpected places, you know? And nature’s all around us, so why not let it guide our creativity?”

Louis nods, Harry’s words settling heavy in his mind. He swallows thickly.

“That’s a beautiful way of thinking, Harry,” Louis whispers, poking Harry’s arm again. Harry doesn’t smile, nor does he acknowledge that Louis is poking him. Instead, he nods his head slowly. He turns back towards the room before Louis can continue the conversation, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair.

“I need to get a picture of that seaweed fixture, it’ll make Zayn laugh,” Louis says as a way of moving on, and Harry smiles finally.

“Why will it make Zayn laugh?” Harry asks, standing up slowly. He waits for Louis to stand up before placing his hand on Louis’ back and guiding him around the bend, through the crowd of people.

“Because I think it’s funny, and Zayn and I have the same humor,” Louis explains, letting Harry’s gentle chuckles wash over him.

“Well then, snap away,” Harry laughs, his hand falling away from Louis’ back.

\---

Zayn answers on the second ring.

“Well, haven’t heard from you in a couple days. Thought maybe the cheese curds had finally killed you,” Zayns says in lieu of a hello, but Louis ignores him.

“So, I met someone.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line, and Louis holds his breath. Zayn is the one person in the world who knows everything about his relationship with his ex and subsequent breakup. He’s heard every single emotional breakdown, picked up a lot of the pieces, been Louis’ emotional rock through it all. And if there’s one thing Louis has been worried about, it’s been trying to introduce someone new into his life that Zayn won’t immediately try to scare off.

“What do you mean?” Zayn asks eventually, hesitantly. It sounds like he’s in bed, the shifting of sheets on the other end, which makes sense, since Louis decided to call him at eight in the morning.

“So, those annoying neighbors,” Louis starts, and Zayn laughs.

“You always fall for the slightly abrasive ones.”

“Anyway! I told you how one of them was the son of the person who owns the house?”

“You did.”

“Well,” Louis continues, taking in a deep breath. “Okay, so I didn’t _meet_ someone, but… I don’t know, Zayn. He just… there’s something about him.”

“Have you been spending a lot of time with him? You know how I asked for daily status updates? These are the kinds of things I wanted to know!”

“He took me to the Milwaukee Domes yesterday, on a whim,” Louis interrupts, and he hears Zayn gasp.

“Wow, I need like seventeen layers of context.”

“Okay, so,” Louis starts, explaining all of the events from Friday on. Zayn doesn’t interrupt the entire time, surprisingly, but he does make noises to let Louis know he’s still listening. By the time Louis is done explaining, he’s in the kitchen making himself a cup of tea.

“And then we drove home, and he uh, he gave me a hug before we went into our separate houses,” Louis finishes, feeling his face heat up again at the memory. He hadn’t been expecting Harry to just pull him into a very tight but soft hug, but it had happened. He’d floated into the house and sat on the couch for ten minutes trying to work through his feelings before moving.

“God, you’re soft. And very gay. Is he cute?” Zayn asks, making Louis laugh. Pulling his phone away from his face, he opens his photos and searches through the ones from the day before. He has one of Harry holding up the last dome’s tour card in front of his face, just barely covering his smile and dimple. His eyes are sparkling and his hair is messy from Harry routinely running his hands through it. Louis sends it off to Zayn and waits. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, wow. You tell me you wouldn’t be feeling a little soft at that person bringing you down from a potential panic attack and then taking you on a pseudo-date to a flower exhibit.”

“Okay, sure. But… Louis.” Zayn sounds strained, and Louis sighs.

“I know. I knew what you were going to say before I even called you. I know I can’t fall into something right now, and that if I let myself do the same things I did last time, it’ll just end in more tears and threats to dye my hair.”

“I’m still on board with that, Stan was the one who talked you down from that.”

Louis laughs, taking his tea and water bottle and heading for the back porch. He sets everything down on the table and looks out towards the lake. There’s a deep urge to go jump in that he feels will interrupt his writing all day.

“I just… I think I could really like him. There’s something… about him that’s almost familiar. It doesn’t feel hard. It felt hard a lot last time,” Louis confesses, and he hears Zayn hum.

“You leave in three days.”

“He lives in Chicago. He works at Pritzker,” Louis replies automatically, and Zayn yells.

“He works at Pritzker? Wait, what’s his name?” Zayn asks, and Louis slaps himself for forgetting Zayn’s one passion in life.

“Harry Styles,” Louis says quietly, aware that anyone outside could overhear him right now. On that thought, he picks his stuff up and makes his way back inside as he listens to Zayn type on his computer.

“Holy shit, I’ve seen his artwork. Years ago, he won an award over me in this youth art exhibit. He’s really grown into himself, because the picture from that exhibit is of some curly mophead.”

“Be nice, just because he beat you doesn’t mean you have to insult his appearance,” Louis chides, but Zayn just laughs.

“No dude, look.”

The picture that comes through makes Louis cheeks warm; baby-faced Harry with the biggest head of curls and that dimple. He’s standing in front of a stunning painting of a nighttime sky.

“What was the prompt?”

“Something to do with landscapes and using black to create depth, I don’t remember. Anyway, yeah. That’s him. Small world,” Zayn mutters, fingers still clacking on his keyboard. Louis settles into the couch and holds his water bottle to his chest, thinking quietly. “Lou, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking.”

“What about?” Zayn asks, still sounding a bit distracted. Louis sighs.

“Just… last time… I just,” Louis stammers, struggling to find his words. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I don’t want to end up in a situation like last time.”

Zayn’s quiet for a moment before he answers. “Lou, I don’t think you will.”

“No, I know --”

“No, I mean, Lou,” Zayn interrupts, sounding determined. “I know you loved Keith. I was there for all of it, which means that like… I know. I know what you’re thinking, and I just. I know you, and you don’t let yourself make the same mistake twice. Not that, like, calling someone your muse is a mistake or anything --”

“No, I know.”

“-- but. I know that part of this whole process, of being in Wisconsin, is trying to find your inspiration again. And I know you’re smart enough to find it somewhere other than another human being.”

Louis is quiet for a moment, letting Zayn’s rant sink in. It’s not often that Zayn lets Louis have it, especially lately. Louis has also been too sensitive lately to take a decent Zayn rant, and Louis thinks about the fact that Zayn’s finally treating him like normal before replying.

“I don’t think I’ve found it in anything external, to be honest.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Somebody recently told me that nature’s all around us, and we should let it guide our creativity. Well, I’m part of nature too. I should guide my own creativity, my own inspiration. I didn’t have Keith back in high school when I was writing and receiving accolades from teachers and that local longform paper. I didn’t have him for most of college, when one of my creative pieces was published. I had… me. So I should get back to that, you know?” Louis rambles, feeling cracked open and vulnerable. But it’s Zayn, the person who’s seen worse than this, and Louis smiles when Zayn speaks next.

“That’s the Louis I like to hear.”

“Me too,” Louis says, nervous energy in his stomach bubbling up and becoming laughter. Zayn chuckles too, and then they’re both laughing at each other for no reason other than to laugh.

“So, back to this Harry,” Zayn says once they’ve calmed down.

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, ready for whatever Zayn’s got.

“If… if you do feel like… maybe it could be something, maybe… talk to him?”

“Zayn, you say that like it’s so simple!” Louis exclaims sarcastically.

“Shut up, dickhead. From what you’ve said, it sounds like he might think you’re passably attractive too, so who knows. None of my advice so far this summer has made your life any worse.”

“Yes, but has it made it substantially better?”

“I’m hanging up on you now.”

The line clicks, and Louis stares at the phone in his hand for a moment before bursting into hysterical laughter. He opens his message thread with Zayn and sends him three middle finger emojis.

He sits back on the couch and goes over the conversation in his head, thinks about what Zayn said. He knows that Zayn’s right, that he always is, but he’s also worried about timing. Getting this draft in is the most important thing in his life right now, and if he fails, he might just fall apart. He will fall apart.

\---

He spends all of Tuesday in bed, laptop open next to him as he reads all he’s written in the past couple days. A lot of the stuff he’d added on Monday, right before his almost panic attack, is barely coherent and mostly notes on the stuff written before, so he figures out what the heck he was saying and then continues from where he left off.

He tries to never write in bed, a habit that ruined his ability to sleep at all in college, but the bed is the comfiest place in the house and he’s sleepy, so he gets up only to make tea and food.

He heads outside once, in search of one of his notebooks on the back deck. He’s picking up the chair cushions when he hears the door open next door, and voices enter the alleyway.

“Geez, H, I think you need to go jump in the lake,” Niall’s voice floats around the corner, and Louis freezes where he stands.

“Niall,” Harry starts, but it gets quiet for a moment and then someone sighs.

“Look, I know he’s just your type and you’re waxing poetry about his eyes or his ass or I don’t know,” Niall starts, and Harry makes a disbelieving noise.

“Could you say that _any_ louder?”

“But stop worrying. You’ll see him before he leaves and get your chance to ask for his number, I promise.”

“I’m not worrying,” Harry seems to whine. Niall chuckles softly.

“You’re following me around like a lost puppy.”

“Maybe I love you.”

“Oh, shut up! God, you’re gay,” Niall says fondly.

“So are you, so,” Harry replies, their voices coming closer.

Giving up on finding his journal, Louis hurries back into the house before they come around the corner and see him. He makes it inside right before he spots Niall walking by in an open Hawaiian shirt, and through the living room window, he sees Harry look at the back deck for a moment before he and Niall head down the shoreline.

Rushing to find his phone, he texts Zayn what he heard. He’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed in front of him, when Zayn finally replies.

_TALK TO HIM!!!!!_

When Louis replies ‘ _HOW??’,_ Zayn doesn’t reply, and Louis thinks that’s his answer.

\---

It’s Wednesday afternoon when Louis finally ventures out of the house, grabbing a towel and setting up on the beach with one of the books he bought last week. He stays there for a couple hours, soaks up as much sun as he can before he goes back to Chicago and exiles himself into his apartment for a whole month to finish the book.

When he finally walks back towards the house, warm and sleepy from all the sun, he looks to the house next door and listens for any noise. They’d been quiet all day, unusual given Niall’s tendency to laugh loudly and Harry’s ability to knock anything over in the alleyway. Their car is gone though, so Louis hazards a guess that they’re out for the day.

It’s almost midnight when they pull up into the alleyway, Louis almost asleep in bed. He hears Liam’s voice, clear through the closed window, and Niall’s happy cackle. When Louis sits up in bed and looks out the window, he sees Harry following Liam and Niall inside, looking over his shoulder towards the back deck once before the door shuts.

\---

Thursday morning, Louis takes all of his writing supplies and sets up shop on the front porch. He’s spent no more than fifteen minutes out here, hasn’t fully appreciated the porch swing or the flowers Harry’s been taking care of all summer. So he sits down on the swing with his laptop in his lap and tries to get as much done before he has to start packing up.

Liam comes outside around nine, waving at Louis as he heads to his car. He looks tired, eyes a little puffy, but he smiles nonetheless. Louis figures he has two more hours until he sees Niall, but then Niall walks out of the house too, dark sunglasses over his eyes. He slides into the passenger seat of Liam’s car, and Louis watches from behind his sunglasses as Liam points to where Louis is sitting. Then they’re off, probably to go take care of Watson or get some coffee.

Louis tries to write, but he ends up getting distracted by all of the activity on the street. There’s a group of teenagers on bikes who roll by around eleven, backpacks and hats pulled low over their eyes. Two of them wave at Louis, and he smiles as he waves back. An older woman with an over-excited golden retriever named Lucy walks by around noon, and Louis gets up off the swing to pet the dog and talk to the owner. A neighborhood cat comes around and sits on the swing with Louis for a solid hour, letting Louis scratch it behind the ears and under its chin. When the cat finally leaves, Louis feels a little sad.

Louis phone says it’s 2:45 p.m. when Harry appears around the side of the house, hauling the hose and wearing his huge hat. Louis slowly puts down his phone and shuts his laptop, that fluttery feeling returning to his chest. Harry’s wearing a cut up tank top that looks like it’s being held together by a few strings and his shorts.

He sets the hose down on the ground with a huff and then disappears around the house again. He comes back with a few gardening tools and gets to work on the plant beds on the opposite side of the porch from where Louis is sitting.

Louis picks up his phone again and settles into the corner of the swing. Harry spends some time weeding and after about ten minutes, stands up to use the hose. When he steps back from the bed, he looks up and jumps when he sees Louis sitting there.

“Jesus Christ, how long have you been there?” Harry asks, pushing his hat up slightly. Louis shrugs.

“Since about eight a.m. I wanted to get as much done today before I have to pack and go to sleep early so I’m well rested for my drive tomorrow,” Louis explains, and Harry nods.

“Right, you leave tomorrow. Are you excited to go back to Chicago?”

“Zayn says it’s been really hot and he thinks the AC in my apartment isn’t working, so not really,” Louis says as he stands up and moves to lean over the balcony where Harry’s standing. Turning on the hose and starting to water the plants, Harry nods.

They’re both quiet for a moment, an almost uncomfortable silence, before they both speak at once.

“Look, I --”

“So, uh --”

They look at each other and laugh, some of the tension leaving as they do. Louis comes around the porch to sit on the top step again, and Harry turns off the hose and moves to stand at the bottom, long legs crossed at his ankles.

“Can I?” Louis asks, and even though Harry nods, Louis goes on to explain. “I just… I have something I need to say and if I don’t do it now, I’ll chicken out and Zayn will probably murder me.”

“Don’t want that,” Harry says, a bit of giddiness slipping into his voice. Louis smiles at that, and Harry smiles back at him. He still looks a little nervous, but Louis thinks that’s okay.

“The reason I’m in this mess, or… the reason I’ve ended up here in this rental trying to find some inspiration again, is because I put all of my… abilities onto someone else and believed they were the reason I got this writing deal, that I was where I am.”

Harry’s face slips into quiet concentration, and he purses his lips, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I was dating this guy for almost two years, and I’d met him before my first small piece was published and he’d helped me write it and work out the plot, and then he was part of the process of getting this book deal. And then, a little over a month ago, I received a text message break up and came home to find everything of his moved out of our apartment. It was like the floor had fallen out from under me for so many different reasons, and the worst one was that I just… lost my passion for writing. I had just submitted the worst first draft ever and I almost lost it.

“I’d always told him he was my muse, because he’d inspire me all the time. And I really, really clung to that until it left me and told me it was ‘too much’ and ‘hard to handle.’That was a little over a month ago, and it set me back timeline wise on writing and getting everything together. I’m glad Zayn was around because he forcefully, at times, put the pieces of my life back together and slapped me back to my senses. He’s the reason I’m here, after all.”

“Lou, I’m so sorry,” Harry says, but Louis shakes his head.

“Hindsight is 20/20 and all of that, and I’ve learned a lot about why that relationship wasn’t great and all of that jazz since then. But that, uh, leads me to being right here, and… well, you.”

“Me?” Harry croaks, cheeks going pink, and Louis takes a deep breath before he dives in.

“Yeah. I cannot… begin to explain how helpful you’ve been. I came home on Monday and called Zayn and went on this long explanation of the conversation we had in the dome and how you said that nature is all around us and that’s where we should be pulling our inspiration, and I decided you’re right. And since I’m part of nature, or whatever, I’m going to start finding inspiration within myself. Stop letting outside forces influence my creative process. Just… go back to how I was in high school when I’d sit in the back of math classes and write and write and write in my journal,” Louis rambles, waving his arms a bit for emphasis. Harry laughs softly, his hat falling into his eyes. He pushes it back up and smiles at Louis, his dimple coming out.

“I’m glad I could help you, really. I, uh, I know that art is all about drawing some inspiration and using references, but what’s always helped me is just… having that guide but painting what I feel. I tell my students that every year. Your craft should be an extension of yourself,” Harry says slowly, almost timidly, and Louis nods.

“You’re right. And I needed to hear that, needed someone to bring me back to the basics. So, thank you. So… so much.” Louis smiles at Harry, and if possible, Harry’s smile gets wider. “And I… well, I don’t think I’m being too forward when I say that… well, I’d like to uh, get to know you better. Go out to dinner some time, or a movie, or something.”

Harry’s eyes light up, and now his face is impossibly pink. “Oh?”

“Yeah, but I just… I can’t do anything until this draft is complete. If I don’t get this book done, I’ll never forgive myself, and this draft is make or break time. And while I really want to go on another pseudo-date to some flower filled area,” Harry laughs, “I can’t until this is done.”

Harry looks at him when he’s done talking, really looks at him. Louis feels like he’s seeing things even Louis isn’t aware of, parts of himself he doesn’t think about or notice.

“Okay, I can respect that. I actually really respect that. As, uh, as long as you promise you’ll call, or text, whenever you’re done,” Harry says as seriously as possible with the huge smile on his face. Louis stands, moving to occupy the bottom step, and holds out his hand. On the stairs, they’re the same height and he can clearly see the happy twinkle in Harry’s eyes as he hands over his phone.

“I’ll text you while I write. I don’t plan on completely ignoring you until September. I just… can’t give you more than partially aloof Louis. And,” Louis takes a deep breath as Harry reaches for his hand and squeezes it, “you deserve more than that.”

“That’s sweet,” Harry says, making Louis chuckle. “Just don’t forget what you deserve.”

Louis stares at Harry, mouth slightly open, as Harry puts Louis into his contacts. When Harry looks back up, Louis swallows.

“What do I deserve?” Louis exhales, his chest fluttering. Harry squeezes his hand before letting it go, fingers lingering on Louis’ skin.

“I think you know.”

Louis smiles and whole-heartedly resists the urge to lean in and kiss Harry on the mouth.

“Yeah. I do.”

\---

_September 1st, 00:02 a.m._

Louis sits back on his couch, tears welling up in his eyes at the overwhelming feeling of relief that’s clogged his chest. His draft’s submitted, in an email to his publishing company and editors, off into the world for someone else to deal with now for a couple weeks. He knows that by the time he wakes up in about twelve hours, he’s going to have multiple emails about it and he’ll have to get right back into things, but he’s done.

He did it.

Zayn’s curled up in the armchair across the room, blanket sliding down his shoulders as he snoozes. He’d had an early morning, much earlier than Louis, and less caffeine. He’d only promised to stay awake until ten, and then all bets were off.

Looking at his phone, Louis takes a deep breath. Grabbing it, he opens the text thread he has with Harry. It’s not as filled as his one with Zayn, or Stan, or even his mother. Just a few texts here and there over the past month. Pictures Harry had sent him from his trip to the aquarium, looking for more inspiration. Louis had sent him a string of overly excited texts when he’d finally managed to get his plot twist just right.

Thumbs hovering over the keyboard, Louis thinks. They haven’t talked about or mentioned the whole ‘going on a date’ thing since that Thursday on the porch, and part of Louis doesn’t want to seem too eager.

Another part, a much larger part, doesn’t really care.

_submitted my draft. i’m finally free (until the emails come in)_

Almost as soon as the text says delivered, it says read. Louis heart jumps in his chest.

_YAY!!! congratulations, that must feel so relieving! how are you celebrating?_

_well…._ Louis types, slowly putting a plan together in his head. _zaynie is asleep on the couch and there isn’t a spot of alcohol in my house._

Harry takes a moment to type, and then _ouch._ _guess it’s a party for one, huh?_

Louis takes a deep breath and decides to go for it, typing out his words carefully.

_actually, are you free? i know it’s a saturday night and all_

Louis is part of the way through typing out his next text when Harry replies.

_i’m absolutely free._

And an address.

Louis stands up off the couch in a hurry, racing to his room to change into anything other than his dirtiest pair of sweatpants. He rushes back into the living room and grabs Zayn’s car keys.

“Zayn, I’m using your car,” he says quietly. Zayn snorts.

“Replace the gas and have fun getting dicked down.”

Louis throws a pen at him as he leaves the apartment.

\---

Harry doesn’t live that far from Louis’, and he tells Louis he can park his car in the lot behind Harry’s place. It’s a split level on the outskirts of the city, with a little lot and a garden in the back. It’s almost one a.m. when Louis pulls up, and he makes sure the horn doesn’t go off when he locks the car. The backdoor opens and Louis stomach feels giddy as Harry steps into the yellow of the porch light.

“You found it,” Harry says as way of greeting as Louis walks up the porch steps. Louis holds up his phone.

“Google maps found it,” he says, and then he’s standing right in front of Harry, finally, after a month and a half. Harry’s smiling wide at him again, that dimple carved into his cheek. Louis has to take a deep breath to steady himself.

“Do you wanna,” Harry says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, but Louis shakes his head.

“In a minute, I just - can I,” he stumbles over his words, but Harry seems to get it nonetheless. It’s like he knows, easily, what Louis is trying to say. His arms fall to his side as Louis steps into his space, pushing up on his toes and using his hands to guide Harry’s face down just enough to kiss him gently.

Harry makes a sound in the back of his throat and then his arms wind around Louis tight, pulling him in even closer. Their mouths slant together, easy like they’ve done this before, and Louis’ arms slide up and around Harry’s shoulders to hold on tight. Louis opens his mouth slightly and Harry takes the in, tongue gliding along Louis’ bottom lip and teeth tugging at it gently. Louis can’t feel his toes.

“I thought about how much - I wanted to do that - every Thursday for the past - month,” Louis gets out between more kisses, giddy kisses that send tingles down Louis spine. Harry’s smile is a little dopey as they pull back to look at each other.

“Wow, me too. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but you said in a minute to me inviting you inside, and I just want to make sure we’re not like, being stupid or anything --”

“Let’s go inside, come on. I’ve waited a month and a half, I’ll barely make it up the stairs.”

“How did I know you’d be utterly impatient?” Harry teases as he sets Louis back down on the porch and leads him inside. He locks the door behind them and gestures for Louis to lead up the stairs.

“Because you’re a smart man,” Louis says as he walks inside, taking in the room. There’s art supplies everywhere, as well as finished, half finished, and barely worked on pieces lined up along the walls. To the right seems to be the kitchen, where Louis can see plants overtaking a shelving unit, and more art supplies. Harry walks up behind him, wraps an arm around Louis middle, and turns him to the left. There, Louis can see Harry’s bedroom.

“Don’t mean to be presumptuous,” Louis mumbles, laughing as Harry pushes him along towards the couch instead.

“Fine, I can make out with you anywhere. I have a sunroom past the kitchen with a really comfortable daybed, if you want to make out there,” Harry says, giggling as Louis pushes his way into Harry’s lap, knees straddling his hips.

“I don’t - a sunroom with a daybed? Who are you?”

“One very lucky guy,” Harry says as he pulls Louis down to kiss him again.

\---

_Six months later_

Louis wakes up slowly, the early spring sunshine warming his skin through the big windows of Harry’s sunroom. He’s tucked in under multiple blankets, and the rooms insulated enough to keep warmth even on the coldest days of February.

Gradually, Louis becomes aware that he’s not as alone as he was when he fell asleep, and that there’s someone else under the blankets with him, slowly kissing down his chest. He giggles as soft fingers tickle his sides, and he opens his eyes in time to see Harry’s head pop out of the blankets around his sternum.

“Hello. How are you?” Louis deadpans, raising an eyebrow at Harry. Harry places his hands on Louis’ chest and rests his chin there.

“I’m wonderful. I got the mail today, and accepted an express delivery package from your publisher. I signed for it, because I’m a wonderful boyfriend _and_ it was addressed to me, for some strange reason.”

Louis smiles, untangling a hand from the sheets to cup Harry’s cheek, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin under Harry’s eye.

“Did you open it?” Louis whispers, smiling wider when Harry inclines his head in a nod.

“It was addressed to me,” Harry murmurs, taking in a shaky breath. Louis entire world narrows down to that shaky breath, the way Harry’s eyes well with tears. “It’s beautiful.”

“Do you have it here?” Louis asks, and Harry jerks his head to the bedside table. There, next to a fresh glass of water, is an advanced copy of Louis’ book. He grabs it, pulling out his other hand to keep one hand touching Harry’s face at all times. “Read it to me, please?”

Harry sighs, moving off Louis chest to lay next to him on the daybed. Their legs tangle together, bodies moving so close they’re practically on top of each other, and Harry rests his head on Louis’ shoulder as he opens the book to the first page. The dedication.

Harry’s quiet after he reads it, fingers running over the words. He sniffles softly and Louis wraps his arms around him tight, pushing the book off to the side to snuggle Harry close.

“Is that really what you wrote when you first met me? That my eyes reminded you of a happier time?” Harry asks, a question he’s asked before. Louis has shown him the journal entry, dated July 18th, multiple times. He’s also shown him the other one, dated September 1st, when Louis had written down the new color of Harry’s eyes.

“You know it is. Prettiest green in the world,” Louis whispers, kissing the side of Harry’s head. Pulling back slightly, Harry pushes himself up so they’re nose to nose on the bed. His eyes are a little wet, a part of Harry that never fails to endear Louis. The sappiest person Louis has ever met has his whole heart.

“I love you,” Harry exhales, seemingly breathing the words right into Louis own lungs. It feels warm, ardent, tender. Louis feels a deep sense of comfort at the way Harry’s nose brushes against his.

“And I love you,” Louis replies softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry’s lips.

“I didn’t come here with the intention to cry, by the way. I had a mission,” Harry mumbles against his lips, and Louis smiles.

“Well, then by all means, I wouldn’t want to stop you from completing such an important mission,” Louis replies comically, accepting a few fleeting kisses from Harry before he shimmies down the bed. As Louis settles on his back and Harry’s hands sweep across his waist, Louis sighs. “This… this is what I deserve.”

“A blow job?” Harry asks, muffled under the blankets. Louis laughs at the comedy of it, lifting the blankets and throwing them off Harry’s head so he can look Harry in the eye.

“No. Well, maybe.” They both laugh, and Louis touches Harry’s cheek again. “Someone who loves me as much as I love them.”

Harry’s smile goes wonky and then he’s crawling back up the bed to kiss all over Louis’ face. Louis heart swells to big it feels like it might burst, and he knows he’s right.

 

_To green that reminds me of youth, which holds every part of my future and more._

_To Harry. Thank you for sharing this world with me._

**Author's Note:**

> all of the regional references and places are real. i based this off the town of Port Washington, just north of Milwaukee. the Piggly Wiggly is real, as are what they ordered at Culver's. so are the Domes and what exhibit is in the show dome right now! 
> 
> oh, and please do yourself a favor, and never drink Malort!! 
> 
> (i’ll add more notes after authors are revealed!)


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